Mixed Emotions Ch. 02

Mixed Emotions

Chapter 2 Greg's Turn to Dominate

Author's notes:

1. This is a work of fiction. The activities and practices described in this series are neither condoned nor recommended. If you choose to do anything described in real life with real people you do so at your own risk.

2. All characters are fictional and any likeness to any living person is purely coincidental.

3. The chapters are numbered in a sequence for a reason. It is recommended that they be read in numerical order.

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In the two months since their first sexual adventure Greg had been busy. He had noticed that their relationship had improved; Marcie wasn't as bitchy as she used to be, they had made love more often, each time slowly, lovingly and culminating in mind-blowing orgasms for each of them. They hadn't done anything adventurous, saving that for the next time that Dana was away from home. This was the weekend!

Greg had also been busy planning and preparing for this weekend. He had started to convert the basement room into their dungeon. Until recently this room had been used mainly for storage and it also contained some gym equipment which they had both meant to use more often to keep in shape. He had told Marcie that he was planning to do this but had not so far discussed what he was doing there. Suffice to say that there was sufficient equipment and there was also a new lock on the door to which only Greg had the key – so far. Marcie had thought this was unfair until Greg told her that she would have her opportunity to earn her key to the room this weekend.

As usual when it was Dana's picnic day with Gabby, Marcie, dressed only in her sheer wrap around gown, made breakfast and the two women sat together to eat. They were both very happy with their mother-daughter relationship which had always been very open, loving and totally non-judgemental. In fact Marcie felt a little guilty that she hadn't told Dana about her recent sexual 'liberation' – nor had she told her that today was the day when she was to be a sub for the first time. The thought of this caused her clit to start pulsing and she felt decidedly wet. Quickly, before she leaked onto her gown, she finished eating, said goodbye to Dana and took Greg's breakfast to him in their bedroom.

"About time you brought that in here," said Greg gruffly, "Take your robe off and get down on your knees as your status of sub demands. I might just go easy on you if you beg for forgiveness, but most likely I won't."

Whew, thought Marcie, Greg's never been like this. Is he serious? She did as she was told, glancing briefly at Greg's face in an attempt to read him better.

"Don't you look at my face or attempt to make eye contact unless I tell you," commanded Greg. "I can see that it's high time for some discipline for you today. Come over here and suck my cock while I eat breakfast."

Marcie crawled across the floor and started licking and sucking Greg's flaccid cock and caressing his large, firm balls. Greg ignored her and ate his breakfast. When he had finished he pulled a dog collar with attached lead from under his pillow, attached it around Marcie's neck and commanded her to follow him, crawling on all fours. They went downstairs to the basement room which Greg unlocked and, none too gently, pulled Marcie in after him.

Marcie looked around. The first thing she noticed was more space – the rubbish and stuff that had been stored there was gone. The gym machines were located at the far end of the room, the old king size bed was at the other end, all nicely made up with clean sheets, and she had time to notice a few additions that had been made – two steel rods with attached rings about six feet apart from floor to ceiling had been installed and a strange piece of additional equipment beside the gym machine. Greg positioned her directly between the two rods.

"Stand up and put your arms out sideways," commanded Greg.

Marcie obediently stood up and reached out towards the rods. Greg looped the lead over a hook on the ceiling and tied it so that the collar was tight around Marcie's neck.

"It's too tight. I can barely breathe," spluttered Marcie.

"Then stand on your toes," said Greg. "That's all the slack you get until you earn more."

Marcie stood on her toes and took in great gulps of air. She watched Greg as he readied some lengths of soft rope. He used this to first tie her wrists firmly, but not so tightly that it would cut off her circulation, to two rings on the rods at hip level, keeping her arms straight out to each side. The downward pressure put extra weight on her feet causing her already sore calf muscle to work even harder.

"I can't hold myself up to keep the tension off my collar," whimpered Marcie.

"Tough. Then suffer," was Greg's only reply.

Oh hell, thought Marcie, what have I started here. This is a side of Greg that I didn't even know existed. What sort of monster have I unleashed?

After a few moments of both mental and physical agony Greg unclipped the leash from the collar. Gratefully Marcie lowered herself down, taking large gulps of air and stretching her calf muscles as she attempted to relieve the pain.

"Feet apart," ordered Greg with two more pieces of soft rope in his hand. Marcie spread her legs sideways as far as she thought she was able. "Further with the left foot," said Greg. Marcie tried to move it but seemed to lose her balance if she did. Greg grabbed it and pulled it a further few inches outwards, then tied the rope around the ankle and to another ring on the rod. He quickly and efficiently repeated the procedure with her right foot, leaving Marcie spread-eagled between the rods. Greg walked around her surveying his handiwork.

"Hmmm, that looks very nice," said Greg, patting her bottom as he passed, "Just ready for some fun."

He reached down to Marcie's pussy and spread her lips wide; she was absolutely gushing!

"Hmmm, seems that you like this. Does it turn you on?" asked Greg.

"I didn't think it would but apparently it seems to," answered Marcie. "At least my pussy seems to like it."

"Well, let's see how she likes the next bit," replies Greg. "By the way, the safe word for today is tomato, just like last time. Remember that if you use the safe word everything will immediately stop and you will be released. If you use it unnecessarily you will be punished. As an added incentive, if you do not use the safe word today you will be given a key to the Dungeon so that you can prepare it for our next session if you wish. Do you understand these rules?"

"Yes," said Marcie quietly, not for the first time wondering what she had got herself into.

Greg went to a cupboard which Marcie was sure only contained newspaper for recycling but from the glimpse of the contents that she was able to get she saw that it contained a great deal more interesting things than old newspapers. Greg reached in and selected a short length of dowel which he then brought over to Marcie and asked "What do you think I could do with this?"

Marcie's mind went into overdrive, thinking of the devious things that Greg might use the dowel for. What should she suggest? Any suggestion might create some new and devilish torture that Greg could then apply to her. Best not even think anything or contribute to what she now saw was about to become a pussy torture session.

"I don't know," she almost whispered.

"Well, let's see how you respond to a few new sensations."

Greg started to gently tap the dowel against Marcie's erect nipples, first left, then right, then a few on the left, a few more on the right, just gently, certainly not painfully. Her nipples responded by rapidly engorging, becoming more erect and starting to turn a darker shade of red. Gradually the torture continued, the strokes becoming harder and less frequent. Marcie closed her eyes, feeling the painful pleasure that each stroke caused in her breast, before jolting down to her clit. She had never known just how interconnected her nipples and clit were. She started moaning, partly from the pain, partly from sexual pleasure that was radiating from her nipples and clit throughout her whole body. Left, right, left, left, left, right, right; a bit harder – or was it? Marcie was losing the ability to tell due to the immediate change from pain to sexual arousal. Marcie lost track of time. Her hips were moving back and forth, copulating with thin air, she wanted some stimulation on her clit, she would have given anything to be able to rub it gently but her hands were tied – literally.

Greg was watching his wonderful sexy wife becoming more and more aroused. He noticed her hip movement, heard the gentle moans that she wasn't aware she was making and saw her feminine juices running down her legs. How long to continue? When he noticed that Marcie's breathing was becoming rapid and ragged he knew that she was almost at the point of cumming – so he stopped.

It took a few seconds for Marcie to realise that the strokes had stopped. She opened her eyes, looking pleadingly at Greg to continue.

"I was so close," she said.

"I know; that was why I stopped."

"You bastard! Why didn't you let me cum? I was so, so close," she ranted.

"Shut up. I am in charge today. I will say if and when you cum. I am in charge of your body, your mind and your feelings. You will not speak to me like that and you will be punished for doing so then."

Marcie had never heard Greg speak to her in that tone before. She hoped he was only acting, that he wasn't going to bring that voice into their normal relationship. She wondered again what she had unleashed.

"And," continued Greg, "You looked directly into my face again. I had told you not to so that will bring more punishment."

Greg went to the cupboard and brought out a length of wide black ribbon which he wrapped around Marcie's eyes.

"Maybe that will keep your eyes under control," he growled.

He also untied each wrist rope from their rings and retied them to rings near the top of the poles, placing tension on Marcie's arms and lifting her breasts invitingly.

Greg then got a short, multi-tailed whip from the cupboard and began teasing Marcie's inflamed breasts with the loosely hanging tails. She thrust her sensitive nipples forward to try to make harder contact with the soft leather.

Quickly Greg drew the whip away and brought it down in a light stroke against Marcie's upper right inner thigh, a few inches below her pussy lips. For Marcie the change in focus of the painful pleasure was completely disorienting. Every muscle in her body tensed and the unexpected stimulus went straight to her clit. Although it wasn't painful, the suddenness caused her to cry out. Quickly Greg applied a similar stroke of the whip to the upper left thigh. Again the painful pleasure went straight to her clit. Again Marcie gave an involuntary exclamation. Greg brought the whip tails back to caress Marcie's breasts, gently massaging each with his free hand while rubbing the tails over the other. Left, right, left, right, thwack! Again the whip stroke was applied to the upper thigh; thwack again on the other one.

After several repeats of this process he changed the pattern, moving behind Marcie to allow the whip tails to move across her back before applying a moderate blow to first her left and then her right arse cheek. More caresses, more blows, slowly increasing in strength as her arse took on a rosy hue. After a while he returned to the front and resumed teasingly sliding the whip tails across her breasts and applying moderate blows to her upper thighs, growing ever closer to her cunt lips and clit.

Marcie's mind started playing tricks. Time lost all meaning, regulated entirely by the anticipation and feel of the next blow from the whip, interspersed with the soft caresses of the whip against the increasingly sensitive skin of her back and breasts. She wondered if the blows on her arse cheeks and thighs were becoming harder but had no way of knowing – her senses were in overload and she realised that she no longer knew the difference between pain and pleasure. Nor did she have any inkling of time; she floated in her own heavenly hell.

The sensations Marcie was feeling were very slowly and inexorably becoming more sexual. Every blow echoed in her clit, which she felt was now huge and sticking out from its hood. Without being able to touch it, she had no way of knowing whether this was in fact the case and the analytical part of her mind wondered if it was reality or merely imagination. However, that was irrelevant as each caress, each blow brought her closer to the orgasm she could feel building infinitely slowly.

Greg listened closely to Marcie's breathing as he continued the whip caresses and the now reasonably hard strokes on her thighs and arse cheeks. As yet he had not actually whipped her clit, but the strokes were now landing less than an inch away from her lips. What, he wondered, would the response be when he did beat her clit and lips directly. Marcie's breath was becoming more rapid and ragged; she was wriggling more, as much as her bonds would allow; she was drooling from her mouth, completely lost in her own world of sexual pain and pleasure. Caress, caress, caress, thwack, repeated over and over, front and back. Was it time for the big one? Should he let her cum and watch his beloved wife writhe in sexual ecstasy or should he stop before she came? His cock was rampantly standing to attention. It had never been as big. Precum was oozing from the opening and running down his ball sac and legs. It took all his effort to resist the urge to shove it in Marcie's cunt and ravish her. He knew that they would both cum in seconds – and then what? All over for the day?

The next time Greg was in front of Marcie the whip caressed her breasts and then, with a softer blow than he had been using, Greg guided the whip to her clit and cunt lips. For a split second there was no reaction and then Marcie screamed.

"No," she screamed, "It's too sensitive. Not there. Please not there. It hurts real bad there. Stop. Oooohh."

She subsided with a whimper, her whole body slumping and her weight being taken on her arms as her legs lost all power.

Greg was astonished by this reaction and almost brought the whole session to a close. But he realised that Marcie had not used the safe word, as she would have done if she had wanted the session to stop. So he decided that he should continue as before.

He moved behind Marcie, caressing her slouched back with the whip ends before whipping upward between her arse cheeks, allowing the ends of the whip to reach her clit. This brought an immediate response; Marcie's body went rigid, she threw her head back, breasts forward and let out a high pitched, keening wail. Without pause, Greg caressed her breasts with the whip then once again landed a slightly harder blow with the whip on her forward-thrust clit and cunt lips.

Another wail, more squirming, rapid, ragged breathing. To the back and more caressing of her back before a second blow directly between the legs. Another scream, more writhing, breasts thrust forward and hips vainly fucking the air in an attempt to gain that last bit of stimulation to cum. Front again, caressing the breasts then, in a departure from routine, two quick blows across the breasts, one on the left, one on the right with no recovery time between.

Marcie's body went into overdrive. Marcie had been lulled by the rhythm of the caresses and strokes, feeling the sexy feelings increasing, losing the ability to differentiate between pain and pleasure but rather interpreting all stimuli as being sexual and increasing her need to cum. The change in rhythm initially changed all this and the first blow on her cunt lips and clit was truly painful. But this quickly changed and repeated blows on these sensitive organs were translated immediately to a huge increase in sexual feelings, so much so that the analytical side of her brain wondered that she was able to feel such intense feelings without cumming or passing out. It was literally mindblowing. The blows to her breasts, already sensitised by the gentle beating with the dowel and then by the caresses with the whip, were translated into huge sexual feelings which swamped the sensory system throughout her whole body. She was in her own world, a world of stimulation that she could only escape by a massive orgasm. And she was building up to that right now.

Thwack. Another, harder (?) blow to her clit. Two more blows to her breasts, another blow from behind between her legs – she distinctly felt at least one of the lashes sting her clit, causing yet another surge in her level of sexual feelings. Then from the front she felt a series of whip blows, breast, clit, breast, breast, cunt lips and clit. The sensations lost any individuality, all was simply sex, sex and more sex. Totally out of control she came, writhing in ecstatic agony in her bonds, screaming at the top of her lungs, panting, sweating, gushing, the orgasm continued for what to Marcie seemed like hours.

Greg watched in awe as his lovely, usually reserved wife writhed in the ecstasy and agony of the hardest orgasm in her life. He was completely dumbfounded. He had been totally unaware that anyone could cum as hard as that. Had he seen this on video he would have thought it was simply over-acting, yet here it was in reality. How long had she been going now? Greg had lost track of time – maybe a minute, maybe longer, who knew? He watched as gradually his beloved came down from her high, her body very slowly relaxed. He placed his arms around her and gently cuddled her, feeling his cock seeking an entrance into her sopping cunt, but knowing instinctively that this was not the time – not yet.

Marcie felt herself slowly start to relax. She started to become aware of where she was, of other sensations, of Greg's presence next to her. Then she felt him embracing her, felt his cock rubbing against her sore cunt, became aware of a stinging pain from the whip in her cunt lips, clit and breasts, and became aware of the feelings of total satisfaction and fulfilment throughout her whole body. Waves of gratitude washed over her, gratitude that Greg could care so much about her that he would enable her to experience the amazing sensations she had during the past short time.

As Marcie came back to earth, Greg carefully and lovingly removed her blindfold, untied the ropes from her wrists and ankles and, taking her in his arms, carried her to the king size bed, laying her gently on the sheets.

"Thank you, my darling'" whispered Marcie.

Together they cuddled and dozed for a short time before Greg realised that the sexual stimulus from Marcie's orgasm had caused him a real hard problem, maintained, no doubt, by the close proximity of Marcie as they lay spooned on the bed. Greg adjusted his hips slightly to allow his cock to rub gently against Marcie's still sopping cunt lips. A slight moan came from Marcie. He lubricated his cock from her lips for a few moments and then carefully eased it into her cunt, feeling the incredibly sexy sensations as her silky lubrication caressed every inch of his monster. From behind he did not reach her cervix, but he was able to slowly and lovingly fuck in and out of her cunt, starting to build towards his own orgasm.

The movement of Greg in her cunt awoke Marcie from a deep, dreamless nap. She cast her mind back over what had so far happened this morning – and decided she wanted more. Timing her movement to when Greg had almost withdrawn, she quickly moved away from Greg and turned over.

"So you think it's your turn now? What's the story, a quick fuck then it's all over? Is that all I'm good for? I want some more. Have you forgotten that you still have to punish me for two misdemeanours? If I let you cum, will you still want more or will that be the end of our sexy day?"